#heart/hearts

[candyic]

heart/hearts pronoun flag: a flag for those who use heart/hearts pronouns. this can be used by people who exclusively used heart/hearts pronouns or these pronouns alongside others. 

[image ID] two nearly identical flags stand side-by-side. the flag on the right has five equally sized stripes. from top to bottom, the colors are plum, light pink, barbie pink, pink-mauve, and dark purple-brown. the flag on the left is identical, but there is a PNG of four hearts in the shape of a circle in the center of the flag. the hearts are white. [end ID]

dni link, please read before interacting

[pronoun-asks]

heyy it's me again, keepin you on your toes!

can I have a pronoun check with the name Rain and pronouns

radio/radios/radioself

code/codes/codeself

bug/bugs/bugself

rot/rots/rotself

lurk/lurk/lurks/lurks/lurkself

murky/murky/murky/murkys/murkyself

(hope that's not too much.)

_____________

Also can I get another paragraph for a friend?

Name Michael

Pronouns

he/him

she/her

flower/flowers/flowerself

theatre/theatres/theatreself

heart/hearts/heartself

Sure thing!

Rain

Radios name is Rain. Bug often studies by murkyself in the library. Rain was wondering if you wanted to study with code. Oh, and this book is rots, so do you mind giving it to lurk if you join?

Michael

His name is Michael. She often studies by heartself in the library. Michael was wondering if you wanted to study with her. Oh, and this book is flowers, so do you mind giving it to theatre if you join?

[custom-pronoun-pins]

[ID: Thirty circular designs showing stars against a purple sky, with transparent backgrounds. Each pin has white text in the antar font on it, listing different variations of pronoun sets.

The pins read, in order:

ex/exself, ey/em, ey/eir, ey/er, fang/fangs, fleur/fleurs, fluff/fluffs, gar/ros, he/ae, he/xe, he/xey, hero/heros, hea/ler, heart/hearts, hop/hops, hy/hym, ido/eis, it/ae, it/xe, it/xey, ith/iths, ith/kir, ix/hal, ix/ixs, joker/jokers, key/kem, joke/jokes, ke/kem, ker/kri, kit/kits

End ID.]

These designs are free to use for icons, headers, moodboards, whatever you want! If you're able to print them out at home, you can also make our own pins or shirts ect, as long as you aren't selling them for a profit! :)

———————–

Designs are no longer available on Redbubble as of April 2023, as they’ve started actively stealing money from artists. Sorry for the inconvenience. You are, as always, encouraged to save these designs to use as icons or in other art, and you are encouraged to print them out and make your own shirts or buttons if you’re able to.

[ur-daily-inspiration]

[riacte]

not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing [what would happen between earth and the moon if the earth stopped spinning as illustrated by xkcd randall munroe]

[dee-the-red-witch]

Oh look, just as fast and dirty as any other April 1st gag bit. Matt, Staff, Automattic, etc, FIX YOUR HEARTS. And do some work on the real problem on here.

[skipppppy]

Congrats?

[ca-dmv-bot]

Customer: A'S MAMA, MY KIDS ALL HAVE "A" NAMES. DMV: ASS MAMA Verdict: ACCEPTED

[lotrmusical]

never let anyone tell you that trawling through mediocre victorian poetry isn't worth it. we just happened upon an absolute BANGER of a worm poem. go read it or else 🪱🪱🪱

[leiandroid]

"free palestine," he shouted until his last breath. aaron bushnell, we will never forget you.

as much as bushnell's actions has moved us all, please seek other ways to take actionable measures against the injustices we face in the world. none of us wanted him gone, and the least we can do is prevent another such tragedy by supporting each other in our efforts to enact lasting change.

[feluka]

oh god shut up. you didn't even know the damn kid.

"The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe, and I am beginning to suspect that whoever is incapable of recognizing this may be incapable of morality." — James Baldwin

[hamletthedane]

I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.

[obsob]

i am a being capable of immeasurable love and whimsy

[all-chickens-are-trans]

god i'm so tired of everybody's bad faith interpretations of everything. where's the trust. where's the forgiveness. where's the understanding that most things are complex and most people have many layers. and like the black eyed peas once said. where is the love

[the-dragon-girl-27]

It is the middle of a Sunday afternoon. You have nothing on, and aren't expecting visitors, deliveries or post.

Unexpectedly, there is a knock at the door.

you are greeted by...... her

[shojoboy]

dropout tv is like . what if there was an animal shelter but it was for 30 yr olds with BAs in Theater